A Visit to Elysium
by adorablehamster
Summary: Not the best at summaries. Just a short little drabble of how I imagined Beckendorf's stay at Elysium, and when a certain King of Ghosts comes to visit, plus when a certain daughter of Aphrodite drops in...
1. A chat with Nico

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, but... but they're so adorable I wish I did. Well, I guess that counts as a disclaimer, right? Anyhoo, this is just a short little thing on Nico meeting up with Beckendorf after he died. I also kind of want to do an epilogue-type-chapter-2 thing where he meets Silena? ALSO DO YOU GUYS REALIZE... Beckendorf was only in Elysium _for one week _before Silena died. Let that sink in. Okay, yeah, tell me what you think, and all that jazz. Read and enjoy!**

Charles Beckendorf was okay with death. In fact, the only thing that really upset him was himself—after all he'd sacrificed, he still thought, _'Isn't it a bit selfish that I left them to fight the war? That I left Silena on her own up there?'_

It was a little awkward when Nico came to visit him. For one thing, they barely knew each other since the kid barely came to camp anyway. Beckendorf was also surprised to find that this kid radiated death more than the spirits living in the Underworld. Ironic, since he was the only one down there who was still alive.

"Beckendorf?" Nico had said, surprised to see him wandering the Elysian Fields with a rather wistful expression on his face. "You're... You're dead?"

"Yeah," he answered somewhat casually. He went through the whole story of the mission, but tried not to make himself sound like too much of a hero. "It was nothing," he said, "Just what had to be done."

Nico nodded and smiled slightly, because if anyone deserved Elysium, it was him. "That was brave of you," he commented. "How are things down here?"

Well, what was he supposed to say? He was dead. "They're... alright, I guess. I'm just wondering about you guys—is everyone okay up there?" he asked, hoping for some good news.

"They're doing their best," Nico told him with a shrug, which wasn't very reassuring. "I'm sure they'll pull through," he added, but still didn't sound sure of himself.

"Yeah, I'm sure, too." His voice had a confident tone to it, which made Nico feel a bit better. "How's Percy doing? Have you seen him?"

"Percy? Not recently. I was just about to go meet with him." Nico glanced uneasily over the fields, in the direction of the River Styx.

"Really? Gods, the kid must be beating himself up over me. Well, if you get the chance, could you tell him that I don't blame him?" He sighed. "He didn't want to leave, you know. He wanted me to go with him, but... well, it wasn't an option. I'm okay with it, though."

"Yeah, I'll make sure to tell him. Are you going to try for the Isles of the Blessed?" Nico asked, sure that if he wanted to, he could make it.

"Nah, I think I'm fine where I am, and besides, I'm waiting for someone." He thought of the photo in his pocket before he died and smiled.

"Waiting for someone?" Nico didn't want to dash his hopes by saying that not everyone can get into Elysium so easily, so he just nodded. "Well, I've got to go. It was nice to talk to you, though." Nico turned to leave.

"Good luck, Nico," he heard Beckendorf say before he walked off.


	2. Done waiting

Beckendorf wandered Elysium somewhat aimlessly after Nico had left that day, and he couldn't stop thinking about all his friends he'd left behind. They're trying their best, Nico had told him. _'Of course they're trying their best,' _he thought. _'It doesn't mean it's going to work.'_ But then again, he was dead and there wasn't really anything he could do about it, even if he wanted to.

He'd made his contribution, set a legacy for himself at the camp, and he knew it was up to the others to pull through. _'They will,' _he told himself, and he believed it. _'Of course they will.' _And now, all that was left was to wait.

...And wait...

...and wait.

He hoped to all the gods that he would have to wait as long as possible—but then again, when did a demigod's hopes ever end up coming true? Seven days—seven short days out of an eternity—was all the time that the blacksmith spent waiting.

A teenage girl strolled in through the gates of Elysium. She had a sad, heavy look about her, as thoug she'd seen unspeakable things, done unspeakable things. Her black hair rolled off her shoulders in soft waves, and her eyes held a loving gaze only an Aphrodite girl's would.

Beckendorf found himself staring at her, without saying anything. His mouth opened, as though he might call out her name or shout something to her. He took one step forward, as though he were about to run to her. But instead, he stayed still, silent in his place.

Slowly, very slowly, she turned. Her expression churned through a multitude of expressions when her eyes finally met his—shock, relief, joy, and a tinge of guilt. Tears gathering in her eyes, she bounded over to him.

"Charlie," she sobbed as she held onto him as though for dear life. Which was silly, considering they were both already dead. "Charlie, I'm sorry. I-I never meant to..."

Beckendorf laughed. _'Charlie,' _he thought. _'No one calls me Charlie.' _Then he noticed that her tears weren't out of happiness, they were sad. But sad also was not the right word—no, they were full of guilt. "What are you talking about, Silena? Nothing's your fault."

"I... I killed you," she confessed, tears still running down her cheeks. "I was the spy at camp, I told them everything... They caught you and Percy and then you blew up the ship... All my fault," she muttered, burying her face in his shoulder.

"But Silena," he said, a calming tone to his voice. "You know where you are? You're in Elysium. You're a hero, just like I knew you would be."

"How—How could you have ever known that? Why did you believe in me, Charlie?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I knew something was wrong," he admitted. "Sometimes, you didn't act like yourself. I never asked you about it, since I trusted you."

His words made her wince, because it reminded her that she had betrayed that trust he put in her. She wanted to apologize, over and over, because after all, she had eternity to do it.

"I knew you made some mistakes, Silena," he told her before she could say sorry again, "But I always saw you as the girl I fell in love with—the girl who I knew was a hero. No matter what you did, I'd always love you."

Silena held him tighter, fingers clutching his t-shirt desperately. "I love you, Charles Beckendorf," she whispered in a soft voice that she used only for him.

"And I love you, Silena Beauregard," he replied, running a hand through her hair. He stared at her, noticing subtle things about how they'd changed—both slightly faded, hard to focus on, like all spirits of the Underworld. He was glad they were in Elysium, because other spirits forgot who they were, forgot their past lives. And he knew he could never forgive himself if he ever forgot Silena.

Though he was happy to see her, it didn't stop him from frowning. "How long has it been?" he asked. Time got away from him while he waited for her. He suddenly wasn't sure if it was seven days, or seven years, or seven minutes that he'd waited here. "Since I died," he added.

"A week, Charlie," she told him, shimmering tears still staining her face. They made her ghostly form seem to shine with an eerie light, which Charles decided was rather pretty. "But I'm... I'm glad that I died, because I don't think I could have survived any longer without you."

"I wanted you to live longer," he admitted sadly. "I would've waited forever, just to see your face again, Silena."

"But it wouldn't have been living, not without you in my life," she insisted, her lips starting to curl upwards in a girlish smile. "I couldn't believe I made it into Elysium. I did so many terrible things... but I know that I'm here, now. Do you know how I know?"

"How?" he asked, and for a moment, he felt alive again. It was like he was back at camp, speaking softly to her in the fields after a long day of sing-a-longs and capture the flag. But this was different. This was forever.

She herself was thinking similar thoughts—could it really be true? Was this all she had to do, for the rest of eternity? Spend death in a hero's paradise, with her very own hero right at her side? Forever and always?

Silence settled into their conversation and it was like the Underworld held its breath, waiting for her answer.

"Because it must be paradise, if you're here."


End file.
